The Call
by Rosebud5
Summary: Enjolras is considered one of the strongest and toughest Amis there is. He never complains, and never once admits if something IS wrong. However, when Combeferre has to be gone on a trip for an extended period of time, Enjolras has to face the fact that, without the med student at his side, he may not be as tough as he thought he was. Not slash.
1. Chapter 1

Hello everyone! Here's another new book for you! In this one, Enj's about nineteen, and Combeferre's almost twenty-four. I have two more Enj/Ferre super-brothers fics in the works, (both are already up and will be updated ASAP,) and they all kind of correspond, but you certainly don't have to read one to understand the other. However, they will be published in order of how they would happen (chronological order.) But I repeat, you do NOT have to read one to understand the others. Hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer: This is the only disclaimer for this book. This fan-fiction is co-written by my cousin Brianna. I got this idea from the amazing website Enjolraswould on Tumblr. I am not Victor Hugo, and do not own "Les Miserables." "The Call" is a title of a song by Regina Spektor... I HIGHLY suggest you listen to it before reading this ****fic... The words correspond perfectly with this story. And the cover photo is from Hamstr's Tumblr page.**

~Rosey

* * *

**The Call**

Chapter One:

"And can you hand me that textbook, Enjolras?" Combeferre called over to his blond roommate from inside the suitcase he was packing.

Enjolras brought the book over to the med student, handing it to him, running his free hand through his hair. "When will you be back again?"

"A week and a half, mon petit," Combeferre smiled. "It's a case study I have to do for my doctorate. Hospital in Rouen."

The younger revolutionary nodded, sitting on his own bed, tossing a pair of Combeferre's socks at the bespectacled student. "We'll miss you at the meetings."

"And you'll miss me around the flat, too, mon ami," Combeferre laughed, catching the socks. "Admit it."

Enjolras snorted a little and shrugged. "Well. That's very pretentious of you to say."

"Says the boy who was the most pretentious child I've ever seen," the med student chuckled.

"I was five. Cut me a break," Enjolras rolled his eyes.

Combeferre laughed again, taking a seat by his dear friend on the bed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Alright, alright. I admit, you're probably one of the most humble people I've ever met. Apart from when you're talking about the cause, of course. And then you're in the spotlight only for the people! Not even for yourself."

"And is there a reason you're singing praises about me?" Enjolras asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I'll miss you is all," Combeferre squeezed his shoulder. "And I want you to remember how much I truly do love you."

Enjolras smiled at him. "I know. I love you too. And I'll miss you more."

"Doubt it," Combeferre ruffled his golden curls, getting to his feet and going over to his suitcase again. It was these rare moments in their friendship that were the most treasured. Enjolras letting down his guard for a minute, letting Combeferre know how much he truly did care for him. It was those moments that made the revolutionaries more than just friends. It made them brothers.

"Now don't you overwork yourself and forget to eat," the med student reprimanded as he continued packing his bag. "And sleep, for crying out loud!"

Enjolras rolled his eyes again. "It's not like I don't like eating. I just forget to. And it's not like I have insomnia, either, so don't bring that up again. I just have a lot of work I need to get done, or just have a lot on my mind."

Combeferre sighed deeply. "I know. I just want to make sure you take care of yourself while I'm gone. It's far too often I find you almost passed out or, worse, actually out cold, because you neglect your self needs. And you never once say when you're not feeling well... You could be dying from food poisoning, Heaven forbid, and not so much as complain of a stomach ache."

"Alright, so you go from praising me to picking on me?" Enjolras arched a brow. "That's just unfair."

"Sorry," the med student chuckled softly. "I'll stop. I just want to make sure you're alright while I'm gone. I worry about you."

"I know you do," Enjolras smiled warmly. "But you don't need to. I'm perfectly fine."

Combeferre let out a tiny moan. "That's what I'm talking about, Enjolras! I was praising your selflessness, but this is a little extreme. If something is wrong with you, I need you to tell me and not worry about 'bothering' me or anything. Please, if you're upset or sick or have anything at all you want to talk about-"

"'Ferre, where is this coming from?" Enjolras interrupted him with a confused face. "I'm perfectly alright, and I'll _be_ perfectly alright while you're gone! I promise I'll eat and sleep, and take care of myself. I promise."

The medical student smiled a little, snapping his suitcase closed. "Alright. If you're sure, then I'm off. The carriage should be here within five minutes."

Enjolras gave him a small smile, walking with his friend to the door. "Alright. Take care of _yourself_, learn a lot, and don't worry about me. I'll see you in a week?"

"Week and a half," Combeferre enveloped Enjolras into a swift hug, planting a chaste kiss in the blond locks. "Good-bye, mon petit."

"'Bye," Enjolras held open the door for him, still smiling slightly. "See you soon."

And just like that, the door clicked shut.

Enjolras looked at the shut door for several seconds before taking a deep breath. He could do this. He knew he could. Sure, this was the longest he had ever been away from Combeferre, but he would be perfectly fine.

Wouldn't he?

Swallowing, the blond turned to their massive bookshelf right by the door and found Combeferre's psychology textbook. He took a deep breath and pulled it off the shelf. He knew that psychology was namely a study about mentally unstable people with issues like bipolarity, schizophrenia, or the like.

But maybe, just maybe, he could find what he was looking for in there as well.

A little issue really... Nothing he couldn't handle, and certainly nothing that affected him constantly like the other issues discussed in the book.

Only when Combeferre was gone for extended periods of time.

And, nervously, Enjolras turned to the index, searching with his finger until he found what he was looking for.

_Separation anxiety._

* * *

And ta-da! Chapter One done! What do you all think? I know it's rather short, but it's just a prologue, really. I hope to have my other super-brothers fics updated VERY soon, as well as publish yet another book I have in mind... A Courfeyrac/Cosette story! What a change, huh?

Well, please let me know what you think! Hope you like it so far!

Review?

~Rosey


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys! Oh my gosh, I feel like such an awful person... I haven't updated in ages! But you must understand, I have been volunteering at little kid's camps all month, and when I have time off, I have to spend it sleeping or I would go absolutely crazy! BUT! Tomorrow is the last day of camps, yay! I'll be out of town a lot of next week for vacation, but I'll write as much as I can while I'm on the road, and update when I get home. Then, I have a few weeks off, and then I move back into my dorm for college! But my amazingly wonderful new roomie also writes fanfictions, so I have a feeling there will be lots of fanfiction writing parties, and even more updates during the school year than I was able to give you all in the summer. Fingers crossed for the best!

~Rosey

* * *

Chapter Two:

Enjolras knew he was dreaming, but he couldn't manage to make himself wake up.

He was in his old house... The one he had grown up in from the day he was born until he moved in with the Combeferre's at age eleven. But it wasn't as he remembered it. The walls were decaying badly, falling off completely in chunks. The floorboards were creaking dangerously under his feet, and the ceiling leaked stale smelling rain. It dripped in icy rivulets down his neck and through his curls into his eyes, stinging them like tears.

It was dark, and if he hadn't grown up in the house, he doubtless would have gotten very lost very quickly indeed. The halls were even more twisty than he remembered, and the stairwell even narrower. He turned his head to cough into his sleeve as the stench of the stale rain became too much, and he covered his nose with his slightly trembling hand as he neared the kitchen. Maybe his mother would be in there. Maybe she could keep him safe and explain what was happening.

When he reached the kitchen, however, he felt his heart clench in his chest. His mother wasn't there. But on the table there lay a note, written in dangerously familiar handwriting. Swallowing thickly, he approached the small piece of paper and picked it up, reading it with stinging eyes.

_Monsieur,_

_I have had enough of your uselessness. Your stupidity. You foolishness. You are a waste of space and a burden and I am not asking you, I am telling you to be out of this house by the time I get home at five o'clock today or the consequences will be dire._

_Your mother agreed to this. She finds you as large of a burden as I do. Clearly, this is not an opinion. It is the truth. _

_I will not hear from you again, understand?_

_Sincerely, _

_Adam Enjolras._

Enjolras crumpled the note in his hand, his heart racing in his chest. He knew his father viewed him as a burden. These words were nothing new. But hearing that his mother felt the same way was equivalent in pain to a physical blow to his ribcage. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, trying to catch his breath. It was four fifty. He had ten minutes to get out of the house. Should he pack? When he turned towards the stairwell, he was horrified to find it gone, leaving only a terrifying looking black, gaping hole in it's wake. He took a trembling step backwards, and then turned and darted from the house out into the rain.

He ran as fast as his legs would carry him to the one place he knew he would be safe. The Combeferre's. Ever since he was five years old, he and Etienne Combeferre had been best friends, and he knew that he would be loved and accepted there. Welcomed in with warm arms and comforting words as he always was. He slipped a total of fifteen times before he reached the house, and when he did, he didn't even bother knocking. He rushed inside, closing the door behind him, standing there in the kitchen soaking wet with bloody knees, his hair in his eyes, his body shaking badly.

The Combeferre house looked a little different than he remembered, as his own house had. The usually warm, happy glow the abode seemed to radiate was dull and gray, giving the place a foreboding look. The pictures of the smiling family were replaced with pictures of the Combeferres frowning and looking frighteningly serious, and even the vase of flowers on the table was replaced by a stack of ominous looking books written in a language Enjolras couldn't read, making him feel painfully dumb.

It was then that Combeferre appeared. But this wasn't the Etienne that Enjolras loved so dearly... That he would intrust with his life... That held him through his worst nightmares, that rocked him back to sleep when he woke up from these night terrors, that reminded him how much he was loved and how important he was. This Combeferre was stony faced and cold, with icy eyes and a set jaw.

"Enjolras. What are you doing here?" he asked in a measured, distant tone.

"My... my father left this," Enjolras whispered, unsure how to act around this new version of Combeferre, handing him the letter with a shaking hand.

Combeferre snatched the letter from his hand and read it swiftly before shrugging slightly and tossing it on the ground. "So? It's the truth. I'm surprised he hasn't kicked you out before."

Enjolras swallowed, his heart shattering. "You... you don't mean that."

"Of course I do," Combeferre said coldly. "And I suggest you leave here, too. Before my family sees you."

As if on cue, Madame and Monsieur Combeferre entered the room behind their son. They, too, had changed drastically in appearance, resembling more stone statues than the loving, warm parents they were from Enjolras's memory.

"Oh, Lord. What's _he _doing here?" Madame Combeferre sneered down at Enjolras, her usually tender eyes steely.

"I told him to leave. He must be too stupid to understand," Etienne turned Julien and glared coldly.

"I'd advise you to leave," Monsieur Combeferre said in a voice that sounded frighteningly like Enjolras's father's.

It was then Combeferre's two younger sisters appeared beside their parents, also looking far cooler and harsher than Enjolras recalled. "Quit stealing our brother away from us!"

"I'm not trying to!" Enjolras whispered, feeling tears beginning to form in his eyes.

"What, is the little home ruiner going to cry?" Etienne taunted him harshly, a cold laugh in his words.

"I'm not trying to ruin your family," Enjolras cursed inwardly when his voice cracked and hot tears found their way onto his cheeks.

"You ruin everything, Julien," a chilling voice hissed behind him. "And everyone is always going to leave you."

Feeling as if his lungs collapsed, Enjolras slowly turned around to face none other than his father looming behind him. "Everyone. Will. Always. Leave."

"That's not true," Enjolras whispered brokenly, trying to step away from him. "He's going to come back... Combeferre will come back..."

"I'm not coming back, Enjolras," Dream-Combeferre snapped behind him. "I was glad to leave on that trip. It got me away from you. And now I'm not coming back."

"Please come back..." the blond revolutionary managed through his tears. "Combeferre, please come back..."

"Never," Dream-'Ferre growled. "And everyone else will leave you too."

"No...Come back... Please, please come home..."

"I'm never coming home. I'm never coming back."

* * *

Enjolras bolted upright on the couch, his head racing, his neck hot and sweaty, his palms clammy, his heart pounding dangerously. He took a deep breath, looking around himself in the darkness. A nightmare. That was all it was. A nightmare.

When he was a child, he was visited by nightmares far more frequently. And, of course, when he was very ill or stressed. But usually, more recently, the nightmares had been staying more at bay. He was so strong, both mentally and physically, that even one nightmare would have him feeling embarrassed for weeks. Or until the next one came around.

But this one... This one was different. It was so vivid... And now, he didn't have Combeferre to hold him and comfort him and tell him he would never leave. Because Combeferre _was _ gone. He was truly not there. Enjolras felt his heart begin racing even faster, his lungs closing up, his head pounding...

It was then that the knock on the door sounded. "Enjolras? Are you awake?" the sound of his dear friend Courfeyrac's voice came from the other side of the door.

Enjolras took a deep breath. So _that _was what had woken him up... And he had never been more glad of company in his life. Taking a composing breath and trying hard to keep his emotions at bay, he got to his feet and went to the door, opening it.

"Enjolras!" Courfeyrac beamed at him, holding a pile of books that came up to his chin. "I'm so glad you're up! Look erm... I know it's three in the morning but... I need your help."

Julien looked at him with a slightly bemused smile. "Is it the essay that's due tomorrow?"

"Yes...?" Courfeyrac grinned sheepishly. "Um... I have the title! And the prompt!"

"Those were both given to us," Enjolras arched an eyebrow.

"Well... I know which chapter I should have read, anyway!" Courfeyrac bounced a little on his toes.

Enjolras ran a still-slightly trembling hand through his hair. "Should have read?"

"Maybe...?" the brunette student smiled in a rather puppy-dog-ish fashion.

Enjolras sighed deeply and lead Courfeyrac into the flat, lighting several candles and the lamp, gesturing to the couch, trying hard to hide his still-painful agitation. "Do you want to sit?"

"Sure," his friend nodded. And with that, he decisively plopped to the floor.

Julien looked down at him and managed a small smile. Well, if he was going to have any company to distract him, Courfeyrac was the best he could ask for. And with that, he took a seat on the ground next to the other revolutionary.

* * *

Phew! That chapter was hard to write! Coufeyrac's a BIG part of this story, so he'll be here for quite a while!

Any REVIEWS you guys could give would be so appreciated!

Stay revolutionary!

~Rosey


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys! So this is more of a filler chapter, but hopefully you will enjoy it. This establishes Courfeyrac and Enjolras's relationship and their dynamic... I hope it's enjoyed, because my cousin and I enjoyed writing it and *cough acting it out cough.* Enjoy!

~Rosey

* * *

Chapter Three:

Courfeyrac let out a loud groan and buried his face in the carpet on the floor, dragging his hands through his hair. "This is so ridiculous!" he moaned into the rug. "How can the professors expect us to write an entire essay in two weeks?!"

Enjolras just arched an eyebrow. "You realize that two weeks is actually a very generous amount of time."

"Uh-huh," Courfeyrac rolled his eyes, sitting up a little more and looking back down at the book. "Wait so... What page does this start on?"

"349," Enjolras sighed, leaning back against the couch and watching his friend with skeptical eyes. "Listen, if you don't even know the page-"

"I know it now," Courfeyrac held up a hand with so much attitude Enjolras had to bite back a laugh. "Thank you very much."

"Alright, I'm sorry," Julien held up his own hands a little in defeat. "I'll just sit here and read my own book." Casually, he reached up onto the coffee table and pulled down the book with the information about seperation anxiety in it, pulling it open to the marked page and starting to read to himself as Courfeyrac turned sassily back to his essay.

Not two minutes later, however, Courfeyrac spoke up again. "I am dead. I have literally written none of this."

"Not my fault," Enjolras glanced up from his book, tapping his fingers a little on the pages as the anxiety began to set in again inside the back of his mind.

"I just... Well, there were other things that were more...important," Courfeyrac ventured sheepishly. "Like... The meetings!"

"Right," Enjolras snorted softly, having to chuckle a little. "Nice guilt trip there, mon ami."

"They were far more important than this essay!" Courfeyrac beamed triumphantly.

"I managed to write it," Enjolras rose an eyebrow, his foot now tapping along with his fingers as he tried desperately to keep his thoughts away from Combeferre's absence.

"Well... But you don't sleep," Courfeyrac looked over at him, crossing his arms.

"I sleep," Enjolras looked down and fiddled with the pages of the book nervously, not in the mood to be scolded for his lack of self-care.

Courfeyrac just laughed at this and looked back down at his book. For a very long while, both of them read on in silence with Courfeyrac kicking his legs absently as he read and Julien getting more and more antsy, very often glancing out the window or up at the clock, his heart starting to race in his ears the more he read about separation anxiety and how much it lined up with his fears. _And I thought I was the normal one..._

"How long is this essay actually supposed to be?" Courfeyrac broke through his thoughts, scooting so he was laying on his stomach with his arms on either side of the book, head slightly raised.

"Fifteen pages," Enjolras mumbled, not looking up from his own book, swallowing thickly as his nerves continued pulsing.

"_Fifteen?!"_ Courfeyrac yelped a little, sitting up slightly straighter. "How do they expect us to write fifteen pages?!"

"I did," Julien said simply as he finally looked up.

"Well... You're not a normal person though." And then, off Enjolras's look, "Student. Not a normal student."

"Uh-huh," the blond snorted softly, looking back down at his book.

"I should just... Quit talking," Courfeyrac looked away and back down at his novel.

"Yes, if it gets your essay done faster," Enjolras teased gently as he tapped his fingers nervously on the book's edges. "Now hush and read."

"Yes, mother," the brunette winked and buried his nose back in his novel.

Julien sighed a little and turned back to his own text. The words on the page were starting to run together as his usually steady mind began to race. _What if Combeferre really doesn't come back? Did you do anything to make him mad? Is there anything you could do to bring him back faster? Is it sad that you're this reliable on someone when you're a fully grown man? And a leader of a revolution, nonetheless. Come on, Julien. You're the strong one. Just breathe and tell yourself he'll be back soon. Just breathe and tell yourself he's not mad and would never leave. You've done nothing to make him mad and you know you've done nothing wrong and even if you did he always comes back. He always, always does. Because he's Combeferre. And Combeferre always comes back. That's why you love and need him so much. Because he's your guide. He's your rock. _

_And now he's_ gone.

With this dangerous thought back in his mind, Enjolras looked up towards Courfeyrac, needing his friend's reassuring smile and cheerfulness. But when he looked up, however, he felt his heart sink. Courfeyrac was facedown in his book, fast asleep, snoring lightly. Unable to give the love and joy that Enjolras so desperately needed.

Julien swallowed nervously. He cleared his throat once. Twice. Then he spoke up quietly. "Courfeyrac?" Nothing. "Courf, you're going to want to finish that essay, you know."

But it was no use. The younger student was dead to the world, no doubt dreaming of beautiful women and, for all Enjolras knew, rainbows and chocolate. It seemed fitting for the cheerful boy, anyway.

The blond ran a hand through his curls and took a deep breath. Okay. Everything was going to be okay. Combeferre would come back, _because Combeferre always comes back, _and things would all be fine. He just worried too much. Only when Combeferre was gone, too.

When he had his guide, Julien wasn't much of a worrier. Oh yes, he liked to get things done, and was always focused on the cause and the hope and joy he had for the future and he was so intent on that that some of the Amis might call it worry.

But it wasn't. Not really.

Worry was what he was feeling now. That horrible knot in his stomach and those awful thoughts in his brain that were always there in the back of his head no matter how hard he tried to shake them that maybe, just maybe, Combeferre had finally had enough and was leaving for good.

Suddenly, it was getting harder to breathe, and Enjolras set his book aside slowly, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth a few times before getting to his feet and going towards the window, hoping for some fresh air.

As he leaned his head out the window, however, the city bells began to chime the hour. And it was something in those bells that made him start to shake... Quivering like chilled by an icy wind as his mind began whispering _Another hour without him. Pretty soon it will be a day. Then two days. And then it will just keep going and going until he never, ever comes back. One hour closer to __realizing he's gone forever. One more hour..._

Enjolras sunk to the ground under the window and put his head desperately in his hands. His mind was never so traitorous. Never, not even in his worst nightmares, was he this convinced that his dear Combeferre was never coming back. And he hated it. Because God he needed Etienne and he needed him _now..._

"Julien?" a gentle voice was above his head and for one beautiful moment Enjolras let himself believe it was Combeferre. But when careful hands gently pried his own away from his hair and tilted his chin up, it was Courfeyrac's face before him, and not Etienne.

Embarrassed and scared, Enjolras wordlessly pushed Courfeyrac aside and got to his feet, bolting into his bedroom and slamming the door behind him.

* * *

Ehh... So that chapter was... Hard... I don't know. I'm not super fond of it, but here it is;) What do you all think? Please review!

Stay revolutionary!

~Rosey


	4. Chapter 4

Hey guys! At last, an update on this one! I hope this chapter gets things moving along more swiftly, and fills in some plot holes, and most importantly, I hope you all enjoy!

~Rosey

* * *

Chapter Four:

Courfeyrac silently stepped into the doorway of Enjolras's room, biting his lip at the sight that met him. Julien sat curled up on the bed, his knees drawn to his chest, and his head in his hands. The book containing the information on separation anxiety was clutched in the Courfeyrac's hands from where he found it, discarded by Enjolras, only moments ago. He bit his lip and reluctantly stepped over towards the bed, sitting on the edge, hoping not to make the blond feel cornered. Silently, he slid the volume towards his huddled friend, speaking a soft, gentle voice, concern lacing his words. "Separation anxiety?"

Enjolras glanced up with hurting blue eyes, and he slowly shook his head, speaking in a tiny voice. "It's nothing."

"It doesn't look like nothing," Courfeyrac mumbled, scooting a little closer, biting his lip.

The blond was very quiet for several minutes, shifting uncomfortably on the bed, obviously wrestling with himself before he mumbled tiredly, "I have it."

Courfeyrac nodded a little and moved a bit closer, speaking in a nonjudgemental, soft voice. "For how long?"

Trying to keep his own tone as professional and yet casual as possible, Enjolras shrugged a little. "As long as I can remember. But only with 'Ferre. I'm usually not like this... Only when he's gone for extended periods of time."

The younger student felt his heart break for his friend, and gently reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. "Enjolras, 'Ferre isn't your father. He isn't going to leave. He doesn't view you as a burden or a bother or any of that. He loves you so, so much. He'll be home before you know it. I promise."

The blond glanced over towards him, watching his friend for a long moment, before wordlessly getting to his feet and walking out of the room. Courfeyrac opened his mouth to call after him, but not two moments later Julien returned, this time with a notebook clutched in his hand. He resumed his place on the bed and opened the book up, holding it towards Courfeyrac. The younger student blinked in surprise. The pages were filled with information about the anxiety, and Enjolras's own notes about why he thought he had it. Courfeyrac swallowed sadly. Of course. His friend was so logical and one-track-minded and usually so un-moody and serious... So non-reckless and so quiet apart from his advances in the cause...He _would _need to write down logical, black and white notes to understand a thing like this. Still, as he took the notebook from Enjolras and flipped through the pages, he mumbled a question, "What is this?"

"I understand things better when I see them written down," Julien said simply, sounding almost childlike as he sat back to nervously watch Courfeyrac flip through his notes.

"Can you explain it to me?" the brunette revolutionary asked quietly. Then, off Enjolras's unsure look, he added a gentle "Please?"

The blond sighed and hesitated a long moment before reaching over and taking the notebook from Courfeyrac's hands and opening to page one, where there was an elaborate chart drawn. Courfeyrac scooted over so he was sitting directly by Enjolras, looking at the words over his shoulder as Julien began speaking quietly, gesturing to various points on the chart. "My father left because I was a burden," he began in a sadly distant tone. "And... And I know 'Ferre won't leave. But... I guess there's just always that part of me that doesn't completely believe it."

Courfeyrac frowned sadly and shook his head. "Enjolras... Nothing you could do would ever make Combeferre leave. You know that."

The blond sighed deeply and ran his hands through his hair. "Look, Courfeyrac, I'm sorry but... I just don't think you understand."

There was a long, pregnant pause before Courfeyrac spoke again, this time in a tiny, soft voice. "Actually... Yes. I do understand."

Enjolras blinked and looked over at him with wide blue eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean... Not about the separation anxiety. But... I know what it's like to have a family who doesn't appreciate you," Courfeyrac looked down at the blanket and fiddled with a loose string numbly, biting the inside of his cheek so hard he almost drew blood.

Julien's face fell, and worry for his friend instantly overtook his own anxiety. "Courf... I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have assumed."

"It's alright," Courfeyrac chuckled weakly. "It usually a safe assumption that people have families that love them. Besides, I never told you."

"Still," Enjolras shifted a little on the bed, looking away guiltily. "I...I don't think things through very well before I speak unless I have a speech written out or something."

Courfeyrac smiled gently and reached over to take Enjolras's nervously shaking hand in his sturdy one. "You think things through more often than I do." He paused for a moment, watching Enjolras's hand twitch in his, before speaking again. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Julien shook his head, a self-loathing snort escaping his lips. "I just feel so stupid. I shouldn't have this anyway."

"Why not?" Courfeyrac asked soothingly. "You have every reason to."

"Because it's usually something just little kids have," Enjolras grumbled as he continued to shake anxiously.

"But adults can have it too. It said so in the book."

"I shouldn't."

"Why?" Courfeyrac pressed gently, holding Enjolras's hand closer.

"Because... I'm supposed to be the marble statue," Julien grunted angrily, suddenly very interested in a tiny hole in his jacket sleeve.

"We joke about that too much," the brunette shook his head. "You have emotions, and it's okay to feel them. Nobody can be a statue all the time." He paused, then, "It's not stupid, Enjolras."

There was a very long silence, in which Courfeyrac just held Enjolras's nervously tapping fingers in his, feeling the rapid beating of his friend's pulse in his wrist. Finally, Enjolras broke the silence with a quiet, ashamed question. "Courfeyrac... Do you think you could stay here for the night?"

"Of course," Courfeyrac nodded instantly, pressing his hand in reassurance. "I'd love to."

"Thank you," Enjolras mumbled as he sent Courfeyrac a tiny, thankful smile. "I umm... I don't think I'd do alone very well tonight."

"I don't think you would either," the brunette admitted softly. "In fact, you look terrible now. As your friend, I demand you get some sleep."

"I'm not tired," the blond shook his head. "Or rather, I am tired... But I don't want to sleep."

"Nightmares?" Courfeyrac mumbled understandingly.

Enjolras nodded slightly. "They're usually not that bad. I can usually handle them just fine, because they're not as frequent as they used to be... But when Combeferre's gone... It gets worse."

Courfeyrac bit his lip and pressed his hand tighter. "Try to rest, alright, mon ami? And I'll be right in the other room if you need me."

Julien hesitated, and then gave a tiny nod. "Alright. I'll try. Thanks, Courfeyrac."

"You're welcome."

* * *

I apologize for the shortness of this chapter, but I really felt as if I kept going it would drag. So! Here ya'll go! Review and let me know what you thought, darlings!

Stay revolutionary!

~Rosey


	5. Chapter 5

Hey all! Sorry that I didn't update any of my junk sooner… I've recently gotten in, count them, FOUR shows, so life's understandably a bit wild! But here I am, three and a half hours before work, and instead of doing homework as I should I'm taking advantage of my morning off to update this story. So! I hope you all enjoy!

~Rosey

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**Chapter Five:**

Courfeyrac lounged on the couch in Enjolras and Combeferre's apartment, yawning sleepily and struggling to finish his essay. Enjolras had disappeared into the bedroom about two hours ago to try and get some sleep, on Courfeyrac's demand, but the brunette student could hear him rustling about in the room so much and so loudly that he knew there was no way the blond was getting any rest. Courfeyrac sighed deeply and ran a hand through his own hair.

_Poor old Enjolras… I can't believe none of us ever noticed his anxiety… I can't believe he's been hiding it from us… Especially from Combeferre. And Combeferre, you better get back soon, because Enjolras needs you so badly…_

"Courf?" the sound of Enjolras's voice broke him from his thoughts and Courfeyrac looked up to see a very disheveled, exhausted looking Julien standing in the doorway of the living room. "You awake?"

"Yeah," the other student offered him a smile, sitting up and gesturing for Enjolras to join him on the couch. "You alright?"

"Mmmhmm," the blond mumbled quietly, sitting beside his friend. "Just um… It was kind of quiet. In the other room."

Courfeyrac frowned. "You don't deserve this…" the younger student sighed deeply. "Fathers shouldn't install this kind of fear into their sons."

"You don't deserve it either," Enjolras, selfless as ever, grumbled, looking over at his friend earnestly.

"Eh," Courfeyrac shrugged lightly as he pulled a blanket over Enjolras's shoulders. "I guess I'm just glad it was me and not somebody else."

"Mmm," Julien nodded, snuggling a little into the blanket. "I don't know what I would do if it had been 'Ferre. "

The other revolutionary smiled and patted Enjolras's leg. "Yeah. Bahorel kind of took me in after my family kicked me out, you know, and… His mother is the nicest person I know. I'd hate it if she was like mine."

Enjolras blinked, feeling his heart drop and he looked over at Courfeyrac with broken eyes. "It… It was both of your parents?"

"Yes," Courfeyrac smiled sadly. "They just… wanted a proper gentleman of a son… To impress the posh people at court. Acted like the perfect little angel all the time… Everything I wasn't."

The blond's eyes flashed in fury, and the younger student had to smile at seeing a little of the normal Julien in those blue pools. "Stupid monarchists!" Enjolras hissed under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides. "It's so unjust."

"Mmm," Courfeyrac huffed dryly. "They weren't exactly fans of justice." A proud smile spread across his lips as he continued. "When they found out I was with the amis… They were furious. I'd been sneaking out with Bahorel for about a year. I got caught one night. They decided they weren't going to have an upstart of a revolutionary for a son."

"So… They kicked you out," Enjolras grumbled, still furious, more of a statement than a question.

"Yes… But it was a long time ago," Courfeyrac shrugged it off, though pain was obvious in his deep brown eyes. "They probably just deny that I ever existed anymore. I mean it's alright… I don't mind. Life goes on, and I have the Amis and Bahorel now. That's all I really need."

The blond revolutionary nodded a little and then, suddenly, let out a deep breath and covered is face in his hands, curling a little in on himself. Courfeyrac frowned, reaching over to put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey… What's wrong?"

"I just… I feel completely stupid is all," Enjolras grumbled, not looking up from his hands.

"Why?" the other student furrowed his brows and scooted a little closer. "You have nothing to feel stupid about…"

"Because… Courfeyrac, it was _both _of your parents, not just your father… And they kicked you out… And you're handling it all so much better than I do."

At this, Courfeyrac let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "You have no idea." Then, off Julien's confused look, "I… I don't… I don't have times like you're having very often but when I do… What you're going through… That's a good day."

Enjolras frowned and looked down. "I'm… I'm still sorry."

"We can't change it," Courfeyrac shrugged lightly. "Now you need to try and get some rest… Combeferre would slaughter me if he knew I was letting you stay up so late when you're obviously on the verge of collapse."

"I'm alright," the blond looked away, his fingers starting to nervously tap on the edge of the couch again at the mention of Combeferre's name. "Besides… Sleeping doesn't sound like it would bring me much comfort right now."

Courfeyrac bit his lip and reached over to take one of Enjolras's hands in his. "Are the nightmares quite bad?"

"Sometimes," Enjolras admitted after a pregnant pause. "Usually I can just brush them off when I wake up and be fine. But… Sometimes I… Once in a while I wake up screaming and… But that hasn't happened in months. They're not as bad as when I was a child… Children are more prone to night terrors. It used to be almost every night when I was younger. Combeferre tells me that one time I almost fell off the bed, but I don't remember that at all. Now they only happen a few times a year. But when he's gone… They happen quite a bit more."

Courfeyrac bit his lip. "Is that why you don't sleep?"

"No," Enjolras admitted honestly. "I don't mean to not sleep, and I _do _feel exhausted when I don't. It's not like I can go for hours without sleep and be fine, I _do _feel the effects. I just get working on something and don't want to stop until it's done. And I sleep a lot more than people think I do. I just don't like lounging about in bed when there's things to be done. It's a waste of precious time."

"I love my bed, personally," Courfeyrac chuckled lightly. "In fact, I could spend days there and be perfectly content."

Enjolras chuckled lightly. "I'm sure you could."

"And you should try and do the same, at least for tonight," the brunette pushed him lightly. "Try and rest. Maybe Combeferre will even get back early."

"I certainly hope he does," Enjolras whispered under his breath as he reluctantly got to his feet. "You get some rest too. That essay won't be worth much if you write it half-asleep."

"It's as completed as it's going to get, I suppose," Courfeyrac chuckled, sliding it into his book bag. "Now sleep! I promise to be here if you need me. I won't leave."

"Thank you," Enjolras mumbled quietly as he walked towards his bedroom again. "Good night, Courfeyrac."

"Good night, Julien."

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Well! It was a shorter chapter, but a necessary one.

I hope you all enjoyed it, and understand our main characters here a little better. Please review and let me know what you thought!

Stay revolutionary!

~Rosey


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